Britomarte took from her pocket some pieces of hard biscuit, soaked them in the brandy from her flask and put them bit by bit into his mouth.
When he was sufficiently revived by these refreshments, she inquired:
“Dear Justin, when you recognized me in the ranks, how was it that you did not whisper private information of the fact and get me quietly mustered out?”
“My first impulse was to do just that very thing. But I seldom permit myself to act upon impulse; and so I reflected that I had no right to betray your secret, or to interfere with your plans, or in any way invade your free agency; and I resolved to let you take your own course and to protect you in it as far as in me lay.”
“Oh, Justin, dear Justin! good and true in all things, how much I——” her voice broke down and she wept.
“And now, love, forgive me in what I am about to explain to you—because, if I live, I am to be your husband, am I not?”
“Oh, yes, yes,” she answered, earnestly.
“And if I die, still we are to be one forever?”
“Forever and ever!”
“Why, then, we are bound together as fast as though all the courts in the country had issued our marriage license, and all the churches in Christendom had consecrated our union.”